Intrusion Detection
by WebCarnage
Summary: A genius boy...a defective system... A perilous journey of 'online' life, and death.
1. Default Chapter

[Chapter One] -- Exploitation  
  
  
"Jesus Christ it's hot in here," said Pud to himself as he scooted across the wroom with his roller-chair to the A/C and turned it on to 'high.' He looked down on himself, only to find his shirt drenched in his own sweat, and gel from his hair was dripping down the left corner on one of his eyebrows. He cracked his neck sideways and looked at the clock at the same time. Pud was used to multitasking, especially on the weekends when there was nothing to do but sit at home and sulk infront of a blinking curser on his monitor. It was 2:21 AM, he had been online for the past eight hours. His computer had been playing Slipknot since then… and one of their songs got stuck in his head, which he tried to immitate but failed miserably. He decided to cleanse himself for a [very] brief moment, for there was no time to waste at all. He got up from his chair and staggered to the kitchen sink, where he dropped his head in all the way and turned on a full blast of rushing cold water. After a few seconds of seeming torture, he whipped his head back and gaped a the wall for a second or two, blinking heavily.  
  
"For the Love of God…when will I learn not to kill myself infront of my PC like that. I look like some mad whore run out of buisness" He told himself, while opening up a cupboard and taking out a super-size bag of nachos to munch on… for he was planning to torment himself a bit more before he called it a 'day.' He was hot on his heels with something new he discovered. An exploit deep within the very founding roots of PakCom.   
  
PakCom was Pud's Telco., it had been for years. Now this exploit, which he nicknamed "Mux0r," was about to be exposed to all of Heven's City. For the past six hours he was in deep concentration with on-and-off modes of meditation, not letting anything disturb him while he programmed viciously in Assembly. "MOV... flag comma false...MOV...frun comma TRUE, enter, MOV OLDX comma nospace zero, XOR space EDI comma nospace EDI" He programmed aloud to himself. Talking with his mouth and fingers Simultaneously. Him, brutally pounding at his keyboard, almost finished after a long hard night. The final product was almost done. He was racing against time, and the odds weren't great at all. Pud didn't know whether PakCom had information about this hole in their system and were patching it up as he typed, or if he was the only one. The hole enabled him to network his computer to theirs via the internet, getting "Guest" access (file sharing seemed to be on, a definite 'no-no' in the techie world). And from there he was proceeding to crack the Administrator's password using a program he was compiling at the time.   
  
He hypothesized that once he got into one of the computers stationed that they would be, themselves, networked up and with Administrator accessibility he could roam free as he wanted, wherever he wanted, via his Admin. PC. He had talked to some friends about this a few hours ago, and they weren't interested at all, they quivered at the thought of malicious work, especially for a local Telco - yet at the same time excited. Pud was destined to follow through on this. Him being 17, on his graduating year of high school and a full scholarship to John Hopkins Medical School was hanging on the line, ventured forward.  
  
  
  
  
  
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I hope EVERYBODY shall critique my work,…Constructive criticism please.   
  
Copyright. All Rights Reserved. 2002  
All Characters and Places are Made Up. I assume no responsibility if you happen to be the wrong person in the wrong place. 


	2. Old Glory

[Chapter Two] -- Old Glory  
  
Pud was born in Chicago, but when his father had found work else ware, his family had to move along with him to Richmond, Virginia. Tech businesses were literally 'springing' up everywhere, and for Pud this was a great time to fine-tune his computer and phone skills… His real name was Richard Andrade, his name 'officially' changed to Pud during a morning on his Freshman year of high school when some kids made fun of a heavy-metal band's shirt he was wearing… Calling him "Pud" wherever he went. It stuck with him, even went to his online handle. Him, being a socially deprived kid with extensive 'free time'and math skills first got a taste of hacking when he was still in Middle School. Foreign language was never strong for him, science and math were the only two classes he looked forward to during the day. Everything else seemed 'unneccissary' or 'unimportant' to him. Being a Junior in highschool was actually an extremely easy feat for him, he had extremly well god grades (although an exception on foreign lang....yet no friends left him depressed and morally pressed down. Because of this he was flung into the world of technology and drugs. How he got money was simple: drug dealing. Not yet being an addict at the moment was saving his life, still, he was dying on his own terms.  
  
His parents knew nothing of his life, always being locked in his room gave hints to them to 'stay away.' Posters of heavy metal bands, marijuana plants, and StarWars plagued his walls, and 'sticky-notes' with code penciled flogged his desktop. In his mind he was "self-sufficiant." Yet to his parents it was "just another phase." Pud's time of sickness to the family, was now - present in all his day-to-day activites. Richard Andrade was learning, gaining knowledge, spreading, dying.   
  
When he was 16 years old a massive 'twist' took place in his life. One day after class he lit up a fag on his way home to school. He usually had stopped at an abandoned shed and stayed there until he had finished, but today he felt a bit down and didn't really care. He lit one up and walked home his normal route. Some of his school mates saw him and rushed over. They pulled out an amount of cash so they too, could buy a few ounces - for Richard was carrying alot, but for himself. He thought "What the hell, I'll make up for it later." And pulled out a ziplock bag packed full of marijuana. It took him about 10 minutes to literally rip-off three of his mates into buying double price.   
  
Meanwhile Jacob Camby was taking his usual car route. Today, for him, seemed the same as any other day. Except today was odd, maybe he was just feeling sick? He had gotten no arrests under his belt the whole weekend, and was wondering if he was just getting old or if he was really lacking the skill as a few of the new recruits. Pulling onto Lawnwood Drive he saw a bunch of teenage kids with thick black winter jackets and handkerchiefs tied around there head. There was one particular he saw facing the two other kids and recognised him as a boy he usually saw every now and then walking down the same street. He stopped about a block back and watched to see what they were up to. He was feeling a bit suspicious, and plus, he needed the excitment.   
  
"Come on man, where's the fucking bag gone to now. Fucking hey! Mike get that out of your jacket 'fore you get yourself shot."  
"Fuck you man, I'm only playin'. Damn, a man can't take a joke nodays eh?"  
"What? Gimmie it back, this is buisness...I doubt Pud likes this. Right Pud?"  
"Yeah, common' guys enough playing, either you buy some or not. Wasting my time with you fools wasn't at the top of my 'to-do' list for this weekend."  
"I hear you, so how heavy?"  
"Four ounces man, and not a flake less."  
"Fuck man I'm dying here, how much you want for it Pud?"  
"If you have to ask, you can't afford it Aaron."  
"Shit,...I'll pay what I want when I want. How much?"  
"Ok, ok, how about...oh fuck..."  
  
Sirens shoot out from Jacob's police vehicle soon as he see's one of them take notice to him camping a block away. His foot jams on the gas, and his wheels skid for a fraction of a second before he's going 40 miles per hour and calling for back up. All three boys started running to the nearest house, jumping over their metal fence and running with hell behind them. Mike broke through a window and ran through the house while Pud and Aaron ran through the backyard. They all meet running with each other in the backyard and jumped the back fence. They got about three blocks until a second police car screeched to a halt infront of them; where everything froze for a brief eternity then started at full pace once again, all three of them running the four-minute mile.   
  
While running they decided to split up, so if one got caught, the other two wouldn't. This idea, however, was cut short when three police cars arrived on the scene, surrounding them in a matter of seconds. With them nowhere to turn, they put their backs to each other and huddled close to each other in the middle of the unknown area they had torridly run into. Mike, in his high self esteem, decided to make a break for it once again, and ran toward a cavity between two police cars while pulling out a switch-blade, just incase. The police raised up with their pistols high, ...but he took no heed, and kept on charging, knowing he would make it and be free.  
  
  
-- [Prt. II]  
  
Front Page News:"Mike Blanchard - A Death In The Family"   
  
Michael Blanchard, a 17 year old student at Winston AP Highschool died the other day while running from a drug violation. In the past six years, only four high school students in Heven's City have been caught dealing or using marijuana, but this year sets a new record: Michael Blanchard will be the first one dead because of it. As a local citizen of this city might know, being caught with illegal drug use in Heven's City has very strict consequences. The first offense of carrying marijuana is 3 months with community service; the second offense is 1 year, and the thrid offense means up to 3 years, community service, and a bad reputation here at Heven's.   
  
Mike was buying some marijuana last Friday evening when a police vehicle spotted his 'crowd of dealing' and he ran. After a tense, yet brief, chase, all of the offenders were surrounded, and all cooperated properly - except for Mike Blanchard. Eye witness, and police-squad leader told 'News 9' that he pulled out a "pretty damn large switch-knife and started to run inbetween two parked police cars." Thats when Officer Hocas fired the first shot... Continued on page: E-6  
  
  
...  
  
"It's all my fault... I never should have gotten into drugs..." Sighed Pud aloud; along with Aaron and two other teens who looked as if they were 12 years old. They had been tried and convicted, and Pud was to spend a month in 'juvi', with additional community service - while Aaron had three months and community service. Pud's lawyer was good, convincing the judge that he had not intended to sell anything; and should therefor be commited to a lesser sentence. One month in the confined juvinile hall... one month of hell. 


	3. 28 Days Later

[Chapter Three] -- 28 Days Later  
  
Richard Andrade was dressed in blue jeans and a baggy t-shirt while coarsely scrubbing away at grafitti tattooed to his school's walls. Everything from love-letters to anarchy was found on these walls, even the occasional English essays. It was his second day out of Juvi and he was hoping to get back on his computer. He was thinking of lighting incest around his computer to make it 'his' shrine - he was that addicted. The internet was no joke for Pud; it was almost a religion to him. Nothing could pull him away from the usual "I'm just checking something real quick" or "Gimmie five minutes" while his parents were in the house. Yet he didn't look the type - owning no eye glasses, nor wearing high-waters and button up shirts on a regular basis. He dyed his hair every once in a while, streaking it blond - which made him look alienated with his natuaral jet black hair.   
  
As he finished up the last few bricks on a single wall, he noticed one of the doors of the classrooms cracked open. He looked up at the clock - 5:26; he was supposed to finish scrubbing the halls at 5:30 exactly. He looked down both sides of the corridor he was in, then walked to both exits to check if there was anybody walking his way. Odd, there was no janitor to send him home, wonder why?   
  
He finished scrubbing mindlessly for the next four minutes only to not feel guilty about not completing his task (Pud was like this, born and raised on the fact that you 'finished what you started'). He then cleaned up the sponges, bucket, and the soapy residue that plagued the floor from the trail of his cleaning. Once again, as he was feeling over-cautious, he checked for any onlookers or jaywalkers that happend to be comming this way. There were none, and he proceded to sneak in the pitch black room, ever so slightly. He turned around and, before shutting the door, checked to see if it would turn or not. It didn't, damn teachers not even closing their doors shut properly, this meant one thing, that the door was going to lock behind him. He quickly scanned the room for any light source, windows basically, and he found two large ones facing the very door. He slowly shut the door, as to not make any noise to even distract the birds from their work, and off he was.  
  
Pud had stumbled upon an open computer lab. What luck, his wildest dreams had suddenly been released wildly into the unkown abyss of the information highway. He quickly sat at one of the computers and noticed that it was on. 'Strange', he thought, he leaned over to the next computer and checked to hear if the fan was running, sure enough, it was. Pud, for the sheer entertainment of seeing a school computer-administrator in total shock, pressed forward. He went to the main PC, which was located in a small cubicle and noticed as: Admin. The computer was on alright, somebody forgot to do their job this morning. He quickly hijacked the session, and went on the internet to an FTP site he had memorized a few days earilier. He downloaded the first reverse lookup keystroke logger that he could find, and downloaded it on the school's speedy T1 connection - then proceded to install it. He found the area in which the passwords get loaded into the memory without haste, and forced the machine to dump core in that area. Things led to another in seconds, and he grabbed the core file before it automatically got deleted (which was approximatly two seconds, since all of the computers in the lab had been upgraded to WindowsXP). He then opened the core file in vi (visual interactive [editor], and found the user's name about halfway down the gibberish, untransalated nonsense. He deleted everything before the user's name, counted 127 characters after the name by tapping on the monitor, not missing a thing. He deleted everything after that character, and saved the file as a text file, and imported it into MS Word. He set up two colums (one with the user name and one with the rest of the babble), and saved it as a Word Template File, then once more, imported it, but this time to MS Access. He had found the plaintext version of the Administrator's password.   
  
He saved the password in a text, then saved the text onto a floppy and put it in his pocket. He was just about to shut down the computer when he heard a noise.  
  
"What in bloody hell? Damn, motherfuckin' kids and teachers. Damned right shoot 'em all if I could. Gawd help me, teach these bastards to just shut the fuckin' doors properly dammit."   
  
The janitor then took a deep sigh, and scanned the room once more for any out-of-place materials or objects. He found none, then shut the door behind him. Pud stood there for a moment, trying not to move, yet abruptly shaking without control. He was leaned back against a wall of the cubicle, directly infront of the main door to the hallway. With the floppy still in his hand, shaking, he placed it back on the desk, and wrote on the front: Admin PW, then stuck it in his back pocket. He knew that he couldn't use the main door to get out anymore, since it was locked. Yet he thought of this before hand, and quickly unlatched one of the large windows, and simply crawled out of the building onto the school yard. Pud closed the window as much as he could, then ran home...not looking back at the school once.  
  
  
To Be Continued... 


End file.
